Tomorrow night, I'll be co-hosting an event with Caroline of House Of Harper; we'll have appetizers, drinks and shopping discounts, and will be raffling off shoes and copies of my book (plus other fun stuff). I'd love to see you, so if you're in the NYC area and would like to swing by just RSVP here!
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Making these things is weirdly relaxing. I had forgotten.
I spent last night trying to chill out for a second after hours and hours and hours of filling out forms and making phone calls and trying to iron out the details of everything from airport pickups to rental cars to whether we're going to be living in a walkup (happily, we appear to have scored a first-floor apartment), and thought that merited a conclusion to the evening that included some Orange Is The New Black and friendship-bracelet-making.
In two and a half weeks, I am moving to California.
That's not a joke or an exaggeration (although it is temporary; I'll explain), and to say I'm feeling overwhelmed - because this is something we decided only a few days ago - would be the understatement of the century.
Here's what's happening: Kendrick was offered a summer internship in San Jose (just south of San Francisco) that was just too exciting of an opportunity to pass up. Too good for him, too good for his future. Our future. It's exactly the kind of opportunity that we had hoped to see arise when we made the decision for him to go to business school and sleep in another state several days a week, and for us to spend two years as a single-income family.
Yum yum yum.
(That berry box is porcelain and can be used for jewelry, et cetera; how cute is that?!)
My 15-year high school reunion is tomorrow. I'm going because there are a couple of people it would be really fun to see, and because I love the idea of showing Kendrick my old classrooms and such…but the idea of walking into my old high school makes me panic. High school memories are a little complicated. I mean, you were in high school too, presumably. You know.
Eghhhh.
Anyway, the upcoming reunion inspired me to do some Googling in search of yet another ancient gem: a Clean and Clear commercial that I shot when I was sixteen, was teased for more than you can imagine, and that there is a very good chance that you remember if you were alive and/or of TV-watching age in 1998, because it was on that much. Which was both good (residual checks) and bad (the aforementioned teasing).
